


Shenanigans

by StupidBolts



Category: MTMTE - Fandom, Transformers, Transformers Comics, Transformers MTMTE - Fandom
Genre: DJD - Freeform, I Have No Real Explanation for This, M/M, Yeah I know it's random, it just exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidBolts/pseuds/StupidBolts
Summary: Don't ignore Riptide, Tarn.





	1. Chapter 1

"Would you take the mask off for me?"

Tarn turned an incredulous look on the comparatively tiny Autobot stood beside him, looking up with a smile more fit for a dopey puppy than a Cybertronian.

"... no, it is part of my uniform. A badge of honour." Stupid as that smile was, he did feel a little guilt when it dropped to a disappointed frown.

"But you have Con symbols everywhere! You have them on your stationery!," Riptide exclaimed, picking up and pointing at a Decepticon clad pen for emphasis.

"Those were a creation date gift."

"So why do you need one on your face?" Tarn sighed, closing his optics. "Am I supposed to just wonder what you look like under there forever?"

"Would my appearance change your opinion of me?"

"Well... no?" Tarn opened one optic. "I mean, maybe... if you had like a huge nose, crooked denta, an unexplained third eye and serious dermatology issues. It might put me off a little bit." Tarn dropped his head into his hand. "I'm not saying it will... I mean you don't have any of that, right?"

"Who knows...!" Voice heavy with exasperation, the DJD commander resigned himself to the possibility that focusing on his work might give Riptide a hint to drop the subject. He picked up his datapad and began reading reports.

"... if it was just an unexplained third eye, I probably wouldn't mind so much!" Sweet Cybertron it never ended.

He huffed quietly, browsing through reports and notes, and after a few moments Riptide had apparently decided he didn't like being ignored. "Tarn? Tarn. Tarn, Tarn, Tarn--" The Autobot clambered up onto Tarn's desk, kneeling in front of him and trying to tug the datapad down to get his attention. "Tarn, Tarn, Tarn, Tarn, Tarn, Tarn, Tar--"

"As much as I like the sound of my own name, that's a very good way to get yourself tossed and locked out of my office." Riptide sulked, glaring at the Con over the edge of the pad. He resorted to lightly bumping his forehead against the back of it repeatedly for a few minutes, then got bored and picked up one of his pens and began furiously clicking on it. He waved it around wildly in the general space around Tarn's head, clicking defiantly until his hand slipped and he nearly lost his balance on the desk. He gave up on the pen and started fiddling with the desk tidy. When that began to bore him, he let out a melodramatic sigh, and glared at Tarn again.

He'd get bored enough to leave and play with Vos or The Pet, Tarn concluded, continuing through the reports. So he simply let Riptide sulk on the desktop, losing himself in routine, until Riptide's head suddenly popped up in front of the pad's screen.

"Aha!," the Autobot chirped triumphantly. Tarn scowled at him, but Riptide just beamed bright and sunny at him, so proud of his clever little idea. His hands were planted on the arms of Tarn's chair, back arched down to get his head under the datapad and right up in the Decepticon's personal space.

"Riptide, I swear to the Matrix--" Riptide planted a chaste little kiss right where Tarn's nose would be, and the Con blinked. "... that I will toss you out into the hallway--" Another kiss pecked on his cheek, then another. "Gff-- stop that-- I'm not taking it off-- what are you--" Riptide pushed up and knocked Tarn's arm aside, resting his hands on the Con's strong neck for stability and the illusion that Riptide could actually hold Tarn still, and kept smothering the mask with kisses. Tarn's free hand gripped Riptide's back for a moment, ready to pull him away, but the grip got a little weak when the damn goof started giggling. "Mmrrrf...!," Tarn grumbled, twitching and fidgeting in his seat.

Riptide kept beaming right in his face, making exaggerated kissing sounds and cooing at a Con almost three times his size, hands moving to cup his jaw and cradle it.

Tarn went quiet after a good few minutes of this, and a while later, Riptide paused to grin at Tarn, sitting back slightly.

"... what was that?," Tarn grunted.

"Maybe some incentive to take the mask off?" Riptide wiggled his eyebrows at him playfully, despite the blunt look he got in return. Tarn stared irritably at him for a good hard minute, then quietly lifted his hand, and nudged the mask ever so slightly up. An awkward frown was the only thing peeking through, but Riptide looked thrilled. "Oh hell, I'll take it!," he exclaimed gleefully, grasping Tarn's jaw again and pressing their lips together.

Tarn made slow, calmer attempts to return all of Riptide's excited kisses, trying hard to keep his hands on the arm rests of his chair. In the end, Riptide somehow managed to move from kneeling on the desk to straddling Tarn's lap in his chair, and the commander's hands had found their way to the Autobot's waist and the back of his head. He wasn't sure where the datapad had gone, but Riptide's tongue kept sidetracking that thought process.

An hour or so later, Riptide hopped out of Tarn's lap with a pep in his step. "I need to go now, I'll get chewed out if I stay out much longer." He very nearly skipped to the door, swinging on it as it opened. "See you tomorrow!"

Tarn watched him leave through the one eyehole his skewed mask allowed him to look through. He then pressed the lock for the door on his desk, and blocked any incoming comms.

There was a very pressing issue in his groin plating that needed tending to.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ow! Hold on, you're on my wing.”

“Primus, stop wiggling...” Riptide squirmed, hanging onto Tarn's shoulders as he leaned back up, pulling him upright. He reached back, rubbing at his wing panels. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, but you're too heavy.”

“Thanks for that.” Tarn huffed sitting back against the wall pressed to the left side of the bed. “I had a feeling that wouldn't work.”

“My bad.” Riptide moved onto his hands and knees, crawling over clumsily to climb into Tarn's lap. “I could just stay here.”

“I suppose. It would be an idea to experiment with positions...” Tarn reached round to rub Riptide's back apologetically. “Keep things interesting.”

“You're bored already?” 

Tarn rolled his eyes at the pout on the Autobot's face. “No,” he sighed. “I would just appreciate some variation... you must have done this in the past, what has worked for you before?” Riptide bit his lip, suddenly looking off into the corner of the ceiling awkwardly. “... you have done this before, yes?”

“Would it be make me look like a loser if I said I hadn't?” Tarn stared at him. “What's that look for?”

“Nothing, I just wasn't aware I was your first.”

“Oh, I see, well actually you're one of the first two to make it passed the first date... and the first to make it to a second or third.” The Con's brow furrowed.

“I actually feel rather bad for asking now.”

“I feel pretty bad for having to admit it.” Riptide pushed his face into Tarn's chest to hide his cheeks going red.

“If it's any consolation, very few of my relationships have lasted for too long either.” Those yellow optics peeped up at him over the edge of his chest armour.

“You've fucked though.”

“Yes, which is why I know better than to refer to it as 'fucking' like a prepubescent mech.” Riptide sat bolt upright and clapped his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing.

“Oh my god, I've never heard you use human swears before!”

“I'm going to put a stop to that conversation before it starts.” Riptide giggled into his hands for a minute, and Tarn resigned himself to simply sitting and waiting for him to get it out of his system. “In any case, let's just... stay like this for now.” He put his hands round Riptide's waist, and the Autobot suddenly went quiet, looking down and going red in the face again. “This will work just fine... now let's see where you're sensitive...” He started probing and tracing transformation seams, finding nooks and crannies in his armour he wasn't familiar with yet. Marine based builds were new to him in this context, but Tarn was more than eager to learn. He tweaked a wire in the rear of Riptide's right hip joint, and got a rather loud and shrill yelp from him. “Heh. Right in my ear.”

“Sorry...!,” Riptide hissed, but grasped Tarn's wrist to keep his hand at that joint. The Decepticon grinned, then clicked his tongue.

“What's this?” He twisted their hands round, locking Riptide's arm behind his back suddenly. Firm, but not enough to really hurt. “You're trying to take control?”

“Ow, hey...!” He glanced back over his shoulder nervously. “That's... a little rough.”

“You do not like it?”

“I don't know...” Riptide wiggled, pursing his lips and looking thoughtful as he tested Tarn's grip to determine whether he liked the feeling. “I guess it's okay...”

“Good.” He pushed his mask up a tad, and licked up the length of Riptide's neck. That got another yelp, but notably more restrained than before. “I am rather fond of being in control...” He bit down on the neck cables, and the Autobot jolted. “Ahh... I think you're becoming rather fond of it too.”

“Uh... uhh...!” Riptide was squirming in his lap, free hand on Tarn's shoulder, not entirely sure what to do with it.

“I have some ideas... there are after all plenty of possible positions that don't require you to be on your back...” 

“I-I can lay on my back, y-you're just too heavy to-to rest your weight on me is all...!” The hand not keeping his arm restrained groped his thigh all of a suddenly, making him jump.

“Ah, I see. Well we can explore that as well.”


End file.
